


talk 'bout you, talk 'bout muse

by takumicore



Category: JO1 (Japan Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Brief mentions of injuries and violence, Childhood Friends, M/M, and implied unsupportive parents, delinquent!shion for the soul, discussing plans for the future with bae: a novel, except he's not a bad kid he's just made some poor life choices, mentions of coming out, no beta in this household we alpha like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:33:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25453966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takumicore/pseuds/takumicore
Summary: “wonder how your parents are going to react – delinquent bonbon turns a new leaf and decides to move to tokyo for a boy. do they even know we’re friends again?”“they know, actually,” he mumbles out, and syoya only hums in a way that tells shion no, the message didn’t get across. so he takes a breath and tries again, “aboutus.”
Relationships: Kimata Syoya/Tsurubo Shion
Comments: 16
Kudos: 34





	talk 'bout you, talk 'bout muse

**Author's Note:**

> me: has 4 other wips to work on  
> also me: ok but stargazer tsurukima?

“ow, _fuck_ \- that stings!”

“yeah, no shit,” syoya gives him an unimpressed look, then pours more rubbing alcohol on a piece of clean gauze and presses it onto a gash on shion’s hand, completely disregarding the pained hiss he lets out, “we wouldn’t have this problem if your dumb ass stopped getting into fights.”

there’s no real pretension in syoya’s voice, but it still makes shion feel like a child being scolded by their _not mad, just disappointed_ parent.

“i've been avoiding fights though.” shion scoffs, fully aware he sounds sulky, but it’s _true_ – despite his delinquent (ugh) reputation still catching up to him more often than he’d like, he’s not showing up to syoya’s club room (after everyone else has gone home) with bruises and busted lips _nearly_ as much. call it character growth, if you will. “besides, they started it.”

“sure. and what did they do to incur the wrath of the feared tsurubo shion?”

 _they talked shit about you_. “littering.” in response, syoya digs his nails (mint green today) into a bruise on shion’s arm. “ _ow!”_

“i’ve known you for a decade now, i know when you’re lying.” syoya’s tone is levelled, more like he’s reciting news headlines than chiding shion for his bullshit, but the younger can’t help but turn his eyes away in shame anyway. he worries syoya enough as is, and sometimes, ignorance is bliss; especially since even the two assholes he fought don’t exactly know _why_ shion decided to throw fists, either.

(despite them being friends since they were snotty-nosed brats living next door, a mix of shion’s short fuse, general distaste for authority, and a resting bitch face gained him a less than reputable public opinion and social circle as early as middle school. slanderous rumours about him turn into a self-fulfilling prophecy as he spirals deeper into shady cliques and questionable part-time ‘jobs’. they both slowly drift apart and out of each other’s orbits, worlds separating so distinctly that shion only belatedly realises him _knowing_ syoya turned into him knowing _of_ syoya. and, considering where shion’s life was heading, he thought maybe it was for the better.

syoya crashes _back_ into his orbit near the middle of their second year of high school, finding shion beaten up with a fractured arm in an alley way behind a convenience store they’d always get ice cream from in their elementary years. it was an ambush, one spiteful wannabe thug turning into four holding baseball bats, all hoping to get back at shion until a yell of _officer, right here!_ made them scuttle away like cockroaches. his mind was so foggy from pain he barely remembers anything else from that day, but syoya becomes a permanent fixture in his life after that, at least outside of the public eye (for safety, shion insists). he cuts off ties with his ‘clique’ – they let him, possibly too afraid of getting cornered like he did, or maybe they were never really friends anyway – and, once his arm is healed, gets a more honest part-time job at that same convenience store. the old lady who owns it treats him like a grandson, not having any of her own, and her fond smile as she gives him and syoya meat buns after his shifts makes shion consider that, hey – maybe there’s still hope for him.)

syoya regards his silence for a few moments, then sighs and soothingly rubs the back of shion’s non-injured hand with his thumb. “fine, i won’t press. how’d you get a gash like that?” the blood has long since stopped and the edges are scabbing over, but it’s still raw enough that shion winces when syoya covers it with leftover dressing.

“there were bottles lying around.” he omits how those bottles were used; broken glass is one of his least favourite things to get involved in fights.

“yikes,” the older sums up, and shion can’t help a huff of laughter. “hey, stop laughing – i hope you don’t need stitches, i don’t have time to hop around hospitals with you again.”

“nah, should be fine,” the _i’ve had worse_ goes unsaid, but they both know it’s there, and they both pretend it’s not. “worst case scenario you can practice sewing on me.”

despite it being a shoddy attempt at a joke, the corners of syoya’s mouth still quirk in a repressed smile. they’ve always found odd things funny, the two of them. “i want to go to fashion school, not be a _surgeon._ ”

“it’s close _enough._ how’s studying, anyway?”

“it’s going,” he makes a vague, nondescriptive gesture, and shrugs. “it feels like i've memorised everything and nothing at all. at the same time. sucks.”

shion wishes he could relate more to the struggles, but it’s always been kind of obvious he wouldn’t be going to university. maybe he would’ve in a different timeline, where classmates looked beyond gossip and teachers didn’t write him off as a lost cause, but right now he’s made peace with being done with education the moment he graduates.

“i'm sure you’ll get in. you’d better, anyway, ‘cause i found some cheap apartments for us – have a good commute to your campus and all.”

that makes syoya pause half-way through putting a brightly coloured cinnamoroll bandaid over a scrape on shion’s wrist. “you’re really planning to go with me?” he’s peeking at shion from behind too-long bangs ( _it’s fashion_ , syoya claims) with such genuine surprise that if this were anyone else, he’d almost feel offended.

“well- yeah, i.” god, he feels self-conscious now. “i’ve got money saved up, it’d be enough for a deposit and probably a few months of rent and food, in case i can’t find a job right away.” shion may not be book smart, but estimating living costs for two people isn’t rocket science – especially when he’s got an uncle living in tokyo he can just bother about his bills. even if the conversation entailed awkwardly explaining that thank you, uncle, i’d love to live with you, but i'm looking for a place for two people, no, it’s not a girlfriend, or a child, uncle _please_.

“wow, you really put thought into this,” his tone sounds teasing, though shion can tell he’s touched. after all, syoya’s not the only one who’s spent a better part of a decade learning to read him like an open book. “wonder how your parents are going to react – delinquent bonbon turns a new leaf and decides to move to tokyo for a boy. do they even know we’re friends again?”

 _ah, there it is_. he’s been mulling over it for a while now, trying to find a good opportunity to bring it up, and this is the best he’ll likely get.

“they know, actually,” he mumbles out, and syoya only hums in a way that tells shion no, the message didn’t get across. so he takes a breath and tries again, “about _us_.”

this time, syoya _gets_ it, and freezes. “oh. i- how? are they…?”

“…mom saw my contact name for you,” it’s embarrassing to admit, really. a momentary slip up that he hadn’t even noticed until his mom found him reheating leftovers a few weeks back and casually asked when he was going to tell them about syo-chan with the heart emoji. shion swore that if the food caught in his throat wouldn’t kill him first, then his rapidly palpitating heart would. “they’re okay with it – both. dad was a bit weird at first, but he’s always liked you, so.”

over half the things his parents said when he finally confessed he’s dating the boy that used to live next door go unmentioned. none of them were malicious, just… _awkward_. made him shrivel and cringe from embarrassment at their kitchen table every time his mom had an eureka moment among the lines of ‘oh, so _that’s_ why you were so grumpy when i asked if kimata-san’s son got a girlfriend,’ or when his dad gave him a fatherly pat on the shoulder and told him to take care of syoya or _else_.

“oh thank _god_ ,” syoya sighs in relief, shoulders slumping, “i was worried they’d… you know,”

shion does. though he remembered the kimatas fondly, they hadn’t taken too well to their son going to a fashion college, of all things, and took a long time to accept it. and even calling it that is a stretch; it’s more like they vaguely tolerate it, turn a blind eye, like not talking about the elephant in the room will make it less real. syoya doesn’t begin to consider how his parents would react to him and shion, something that fills the younger with an ugly, bitter, _powerless_ sort of anger and hate.

which is maybe why he’s putting so much energy into finding them a place to move out to once they’re out of high school. maybe he’s sick of not being able to help in other ways. maybe he just wants to see syoya safe and happy, living out his dreams. and maybe he gets a little giddy at the thought of coming home to syoya napping on the couch, or attempting to make edible food together, or going out without fear that whichever goon shion wronged in the past will use syoya’s safety against him (as dramatic as that sounds, he did piss off _many_ people). just maybe.

that’s all future plans though, so for now, he tries to lighten the mood by bumping his foot against syoya’s shin under the desk, littered on-top with cheap first aid supplies. in the past he would’ve gagged at the idea of playing footsie, but, well. things change.

(he’s changed. _they’ve_ changed. probably.)

“nah, they’re fine. mom said you should come over for dinner sometime,” the promise of homemade food makes syoya’s eyes light up, and shion would be endeared if his toes weren’t being stepped on with a tad too much enthusiasm, “ow!”

“when can i come over?”

no apology in sight, _rude_. “whenever? i’d have to call mom and give a heads up, but even today’s good.”

“i was gonna study today, but i can always do it at your place, right?” syoya bats his eyelashes for comedic effect and shion scowls in mild disgust, already fishing for his phone.

(the moment they step into his house after a quick trip on syoya’s bike through back alleyways, shion’s mother is already fussing over them not giving her any time to prepare a proper dinner, how much syoya has grown (shion _snorts_ ), and whether he still likes her iced tea. for most part dinner goes smoothly, as if they’ve never stopped regularly hanging out, although his gremlin little sister comes home from cram school half-way through and shion threatens to steal her diary if she doesn’t stop teasing them. syoya offers to help his mom wash the dishes as thanks; if shion overhears her quietly saying _thank you for bringing our boy back_ , and syoya replying with _it’s nothing, i missed him too_ , he’ll keep it to himself.

they hang out until long past the sun has already set, and absolutely no studying gets done.)

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sure syoya's parents are lovely people but alas this is a work of fiction,
> 
> title loosely yoinked from jun and yoondong's [don't let this flop](https://www.instagram.com/tv/CAtRnORlFB3) song
> 
> after graduation they move together and get a little cactus. syoya calls it bonbon because _look, shion, it has your prickly personality._ and good for them

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [really hate being two, not one](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25600300) by [takumicore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/takumicore/pseuds/takumicore)




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